


Paranormal

by Noelleian



Category: Gundam Wing
Genre: Alternate Universe - Ghost Hunters, Crack, F/F, F/M, Humor, M/M, Yaoi, Yuri
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-02-22
Updated: 2016-04-18
Packaged: 2018-05-22 16:47:42
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,853
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6087205
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Noelleian/pseuds/Noelleian
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The gang gets together to investigate a haunted house. The ghosts are ready to scare them silly. Too bad they don't know who they're dealing with.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Relena Peacecraft stood in front of the dilapidated ruins of the aristocratic Khushrenada estate, her shoulders loaded down with various bags that were chock full of cameras and other sensitive equipment designed to pick up energy signatures from the other side. She sized up the large house with a critical eye as she waited for her lover to park the car and join her. Call it unbecoming of a junior investigator, but she was not going in there alone. 

As far as she could see, the other investigators had yet to arrive, which left her and Dorothy to begin the initial set up and get the ball rolling. She hated being the first to show up for a case. Moving with some effort, she waded through the tall grass of the front yard, which hadn't seen a lawn mower in God knew how long. Trudging through the thick weeds, shoulders aching from the excess weight she dragged along with her, she kept her eyes to the ground, half expecting to step on a rake and knock her own lights out before they even got started. Her boots sunk into the mucky ground, wet from melted snow. It was early spring in the kingdom of Sanq. The air slightly milder, but still with a nasty chill that could take your breath away. The trees were still bare, and the sky was overcast, making it feel more like November than April. 

She reached the porch, taking note of the missing and broken boards that made up its foundation. Treize wasn't kidding when he said the place needed a little TLC. She stepped up with some trepidation, wincing as the wood creaked and groaned under her weight. She bent forward, allowing the bags to slip down her arms and drop onto the decking. Heaving a sigh of relief, she rolled her shoulders and neck to loosen the aching muscles. 

There was a large window that ran along the length of the porch. It was filthy, framed by cobwebs on both sides, shutters barely hanging on with rusted hinges. Relena gingerly stepped around the questionable boards until she was close enough to try to peer through the layers of dust and grime. She couldn't see much. It was dark, only the dismal light shining in from windows of varying shapes and sizes allowing her to see bits and pieces. 

There was furniture, covered by sheets that were probably coated with decades of dust, and Relena wondered how the place hadn't been stripped bare of anything valuable by now. Maybe the furniture was worthless, who knew. She cupped her hands around her face, pressing against the cold glass to get a closer look, coughing slightly as she inhaled a cloud of disturbed dirt. Oh, it was the mother load! Not only was there furniture, but the place was still properly furnished. She caught a glimpse of paintings and mirrors on the walls. Vases and candlesticks stood in their places, dusty, covered in cobwebs, probably crawling with eight-legged vermin, but seemingly untouched otherwise. 

Relena's lips curled in a grin. So...maybe the legends _were_ true. 

Movement caught her off guard and she pressed closer, trying to see what it was. She squinted through the hazy glass, straining her eyes. There. Again. What was that? The light that streamed in from outside dimmed, almost as if someone had passed in front of one of the windows, but there was no one there. She leaned back, dropping her arms. Huh. That was weird.

She leapt out of her skin at a sudden deafening roar, yelping despite herself, as a flock of spooked black crows came out of their hiding spots with a flurry of flapping wings and frantic squawks. She laughed, holding a hand to her chest as she willed her heart to slow back down. At the edge of the yard, she spotted Dorothy approaching, mouth turned down in a scowl. She tripped over something and cursed loudly, her voice carrying across the expanse of weeds and grass. 

"- Stupid Treize...Of all the hare-brained ideas. Least he could have done was have someone come out and take a weed whacker to this shit..." The blonde woman muttered as she reached the porch. She dragged a large suitcase behind her, having to right it several times during her trek through the yard as the uneven ground kept tipping it sideways. She heaved it onto the porch with a groan.

"Careful," Relena warned. "This porch isn't the most stable." 

Dorothy looked around, eyebrow raised. "Good Lord, what a hot mess this place is." She straightened her jacket and joined Relena on the porch, taking care to step around the worst of the boards. "Is the inside as bad as the outside?"

Relena shrugged. "Maybe. It doesn't look as bad. It's dirty in there, but I can't tell you the state of the infrastructure until we get in there and get a look around."

"Wonderful," Dorothy muttered. "If we're lucky, we won't kill ourselves the second we step foot through the front door." She pulled a tie out of her jeans pocket and twisted her long hair into a quick bun, securing it against the back of her head. She rested her hands on her hips and looked at Relena expectantly. "Shall we?"

Relena gestured towards the front door, mouth twisted in a wry grin. "After you."

Dorothy shot her girlfriend a sideways glance and grumbled as she made her way through the maze of floorboards until she reached the door. She fished around her jacket pocket and pulled out a key ring. Sifting through the various keys until she found the one Treize had given her the previous week, in preparation of this assignment, she slid it into the keyhole and turned it. There was an echoing click as the deadbolt slid free and Dorothy grasped the brass handle and pushed the door open. It took a few shoves with her shoulder before it would give. There was a loud groan as the door creaked open and Dorothy was met with a burst of musty air. She coughed and covered her nose and mouth with the collar of her jacket, squinting as dust and cobwebs swirled around her face.

"Jesus." She blinked at Relena, her voice muffled behind the black leather. Relena giggled and pressed her hand against the small of her lover's back, using the other to shield her face with her own coat. They carefully stepped inside the large foyer, waving dust particles away from their faces. 

"Wait," Relena grasped Dorothy's jacket. "What about the equipment?"

"Don't worry about it. We'll get it in a few minutes." Dorothy stepped further into the house, looking around. "No one is stupid enough to come up here and take it. I want to see what we're dealing with first."

The floor was marble. At least they didn't have to worry about where they stepped, but their boots left distinctive prints in the thick coating of dust and dirt. Little clouds rose around their legs as they walked further into the house. To the right, there was a long staircase that wound up to the second story. An intricate railed landing crossed the high ceiling of the foyer in both directions. 

At the bottom of the stairs, a hexagon shaped, stained glass window streamed in light from the outside in reds, oranges, greens, and blues. There was a small hallway that led to a sitting area, then more hallways in three different directions. 

Dorothy turned to Relena. "Okay, let's see what's up. You go down that hall, I'll go down this one. We'll meet back here in twenty. Sound good?"

"Yeah, okay," Relena agreed. They'd cover more ground that way.

There were several doors on either side as Relena followed the length of the hall. She tried the first door on the right. It was a powder room. It was femininely decorated, bordering on indulgently frilly. There was a small, pedestal sink against one wall, and Relena raised an eyebrow as she watched water, dirty as it was, drip from the gold-colored faucet. That was odd. The water had been shut off for years. She eyed it warily for a minute, then left the room. She shut the door, making a mental note to herself about the dripping water, and continued on to the next door. 

The second room was a parlor. An opulent bar stood in the corner. Hand-built from what looked like wood from cherry trees, though it was hard to tell with all the dirt and cobwebs covering it. On the opposite wall, a huge stone fireplace stood. In between sat two love seats that faced each other. Relena could barely make out the pinstripe pattern, so faded and dirty it was. The frames of the couches were hand-carved out of wood, in ornate scrolling patterns. Such styles hadn't been popular for centuries. 

She was about to head back out of the room when movement caught her eye. There, in the corner adjacent to the bar, something...like a dark shadow, or mist. It seemed to shimmer, or wiggle, then it disappeared. Relena felt her pulse accelerate and reached for her cell phone. By the time she got the camera pointed at the area, it was gone. She pouted, but snapped the picture anyway, just in case. She pulled the photo up and examined it, but it was difficult to see if it picked anything up. She'd have to look at it later under some better light, or on the computer. She left the room, closing the door behind her. 

Back in the hall, her heart stopped dead in her chest for an instant as a loud thump reverberated through the ceiling above her. It was so powerful, it shook the walls, raining dust and God knew what else, on top of her. She crouched instinctively, arms flying up to protect her head should the ceiling cave in. After a moment of silence, she breathed a sigh of relief and stood up, brushing herself off.

_"Relena!"_

She turned as Dorothy's voice echoed off the walls, loud as a bullhorn. She listened to the stomping of her lover's boots and waited for her to catch up. Dorothy appeared a moment later, skidding across the floor before she regained her balance. She ran towards Relena at full speed, an excited gleam in her eyes. 

"What _was_ that?" She shrieked in Relena's face. Relena winced, rubbing her buzzing ear. 

"I don't know. It was right above my head." She glanced up at the ceiling, then back down at Dorothy. The blonde woman was practically bouncing up and down. "C'mon, let's go check it out."


	2. Chapter 2

The long-dead spirits of Treize Khushrenada's ancestors had been in a perpetual state of boredom lately. The last time anyone occupied the old estate, it was their own descendant, Treize himself. That was how long ago? They really didn't have much use for clocks in this plane of existence, but it was too long as far as any of them were concerned. 

Treize spent a few days and nights there while he went over the financial paperwork of the estate and tried to decide if he wanted to sell it, or pass it on to his daughter, Mariemaia. He'd concluded that the house belonged within the family. He hired one broker after another to come and meet with him to finalize the documents, and one by one, the brokers all ended up running from the house, white as sheets, screaming in abject horror. Treize stood at the open door, confused, shouting after them.

It wasn't until the next day, when the agency refused to send out any more brokers, that he'd begun to realize something was up. Treize called them in a moment of weak desperation. "Find some other fool with a death wish to help you with that mad house of yours. May God have mercy on your soul," the director of the agency said, a little melodramatically, in Treize's humble opinion. As someone who was well-versed in melodrama, he threw the phone against a wall, watching with sadistic satisfaction as it shattered into dozens of pieces. 

Oh, but the spirits of the house had fun with him that night. From the rhythmic pounding on the walls, to the suspiciously red colored water that shot from the faucets, to footsteps, and finally, the yanking of his bedding as he tossed and turned, trying to ignore the mysterious activity. He never really believed in a god, or an afterlife. He'd always thought when that was it, that was it. Lights out, no one's home, case closed. The idea of a ghostly version of yourself floating around in some otherworldly realm once you passed on from your body was a ridiculous one. Absurd. And he told the ghosts so, loudly. Shouting into the empty rooms, banging his fist on the walls.

The ghosts had a field day answering his banging fist with their own bangs and laughing when he jumped back, eyes as big as dinner plates, his hair standing on end. He went to bed that night, muttering to himself like a deranged lunatic, and made a mental note to schedule a CAT scan in the morning.

A few hours later, he'd been woken out of a deep sleep as a breeze that should not have been there, brushed across his face. He froze, fear seeping deep into his bones, as that "breeze" then proceeded to clamp itself around his nose, pinching his nostrils shut. He shrieked and reached up, grasping for an arm that wasn't there, sucking in frantic breaths through his mouth. He flew out of the bed as a disembodied voice whispered, _"Treeeeiiiiize,"_ in his ear. He raced down the long, winding staircase, his feet barely touching the floor, and ran out into the cold night in nothing but his silk boxer shorts. 

He hadn't been back since, much to the spirits' dismay. Though he had seen fit to hire a small crew to cover the furniture and close up the house. The crew never finished, chased out by a screech that could only be described as "demonic". One worker recounted seeing a tall, dark man in a long trench coat lurking in a dark corner of the parlor, with eyes that glowed "like the pits of Hell", and crossed herself with one hand while the other dabbed tears from her eyes. At the very least, the crew's foreman did think to lock the door behind him on the way out, though he also contemplated dousing the place in gasoline and tossing a lit match at it.

There had been a few break-ins and attempted thefts as the house's furnishings remained in their places, much of it extremely valuable. The would-be thieves were thwarted by the blood-curdling screams, the shadows that lunged at them, the bleeding walls, and finally, the _pièce de résistance:_ the touches. It really didn't take much. An icy hand on the shoulder, the brush of a cheek, a push against the back. Worked every time. The criminals would freeze in terror, their little hearts racing in their little criminal chests, eyes darting around for the source of the contact, followed by a muttered, "Fuck this," as each and every one left in much the same manner that they came.

In fact, no one had been anywhere near the estate in ages. The spirits, trapped in the confines of the house, roamed from room to room, entertaining themselves by attempting to scare each other since there was no one else to play with. It had long since gotten old by now. 

There were eight total spirits residing inside the home. And they were far past the point of getting on each other's nerves. Metaphorically, of course, as they had no _actual_ nerves to speak of. When it came down to it, they would have been on the verge of killing each other, if not for the pesky fact that they were already dead.

The sun was just up over the horizon, marking the beginning of a new day. Just one of many endless days for the ghosts of the aristocratic Khushrenada family. Treize's dear old Auntie Mildred was currently in the front sitting room rigging a trip wire between one of the sofas and a table at the far end of the room. Cousin Jasper was going to have one hell of a surprise when he made his morning trek through the house. He followed the exact same path day in and day out, and Mildred had it memorized down to an art form. When Jasper's feet made contact with the trip wire, it would blow him to kingdom come. Mildred cackled, rubbing her hands together with unbridled glee.

It wouldn't actually _hurt_ Jasper, though it would take him the better part of a day to put all the numerous pieces of himself back together. They didn't possess bodies like they did when they were alive, but they were physical in the sense that their spirits manifested a projection of their mortal forms. They were far past questioning the reasons as to why things were the way they were. They just went with it, because why not?

Mildred tied off the end of the wire and used her finger to test the give. It vibrated with a soft _"biiiing"_ and Mildred nodded, satisfied. _Perfect._

She stood up and glanced out the large picture window, spotting a young woman approaching from the front yard.  _Ooh, what's this?_ She was pretty, seemingly delicate, as she waded through the thick grass. Mildred watched, a burst of excitement uncurling in her belly as the woman reached the porch and stepped up, sliding what looked like very heavy bags from her shoulders, then stepped forward and peered into the window.

She was looking right at Mildred, but of course, couldn't see her. Mildred made faces at the girl, and a few gestures that were likely not appropriate for a woman of her status, but what the hell? 

"Cyrus!" She shouted over her shoulder. 

Cyrus Khushrenada, Treize's great, great grandfather, and the head of the house, was long-familiar with Mildred's antics. He sat in his favorite chair, neck lolling against the headrest, and groaned, "What, Mildred? What is is now?" She heard the telltale shuffling as he dragged himself into the foyer.

Mildred's lips pulled back in a delightful grin as a second woman appeared at the edge of the property, also walking towards the house. Oh, now this was a treat! Two young women, carrying numerous bags. Guests perhaps. They looked like perfect suckers, too. Mildred steepled her fingers beneath her chin. She turned towards Cyrus, eyes gleaming with mischief.

"Fresh meat."

There was a loud pop and a splat behind her. Mildred turned to find Jasper scattered throughout the sitting room in multiple pieces. Ectoplasm was splashed all over the walls, floor, and furniture covers. Jasper's head rolled around on the stump of his neck in a gruesome attempt to right itself, glaring at snickering matriarch. 

_"Goddamnit, Mildred!"_


	3. Chapter 3

Heero batted his lover's braid out of his face as the motorcycle came to a stop behind Dorothy and Relena's black van. The estate was situated about thirty meters away from a desolate country road. The nearest neighbors resided a good five miles away. He placed his feet down, boots touching gravel, slightly muddy from condensation. 

The van was unremarkable with the exception of a large decal on the side that read, SPIU, and beneath that,  _Sanq Paranormal Investigators United_. Next to the acronym, a rather silly image of a ghost raised its sheet-covered arms over its head as if to scare unsuspecting patrons. Heero snorted, not for the first time. It was Duo's design, of course, and he'd laughed himself into a coughing fit when he initially showed it to Heero. Heero had objected on account of the ridiculousness of it and insisted they wouldn't be taken seriously. Duo explained that that was part of the brilliance of his idea. It was a universal image, one that would get people talking about them. Heero was dubious at first, but it seemed Duo had been right. Considering they averaged anywhere from twenty to forty calls a week, at the very least, the cartoon-esque "ghost" had not hurt their business reputation. He could grudgingly admit to himself that maybe, it even helped.

The girls made it on time at least. He leaned to the side, spitting a few hairs out of his mouth and reached up to remove his helmet, swinging a leg over the bike, and standing up. His ass was numb, legs a bit unsteady as he set the helmet onto the seat and hoisted the backpack that held thermal and infared thermomitors, EVP voice recorders, and EMF monitors, over his shoulders.

Duo whistled as he surveyed the house, using his boot to set the bike's kickstand, and hung his helmet on the handlebars. "Man, what a dump," he said as he stretched, arms raised over his head. He bent to one side, then the other, and grinned at his lover. "Looks like we got our work cut out for us, eh?"

"Hn." Heero flexed a cramp out of his leg and narrowed his eyes at the house. "I still don't think we should have sacked the girls with all the equipment."

Duo shrugged, not bothered in the slightest. "They're junior investigators. It's their job to do all the dirty work. 'Sides, it was a good day to take the bike."

Heero's frozen fingers begged to differ. He shifted the backpack, cringing as a few of the devices clinked together. They probably should have packed the items a little better. He stalked past his lover, pushing open the rusted iron gate and entered the yard, parting long weeds out of his way as he went. 

"We should have brought a machete," Duo's voice sounded behind him. The crunch of their footsteps were loud in the otherwise quiet morning. 

The bags of equipment were sitting on the porch when they got to the house and the front door was open. Heero handed a few bags to Duo, grasped the handle of the suitcase, and stepped carefully to the door, noticing the unstable state of the boards.

Behind him, there was a loud _crack_ , and an emphatic _"Fuck!"_ as Duo stepped on a weakened board. Heero turned to see his lover standing in a now large hole in the deck, the floorboards up to his knees. 

"Careful," he warned.

Duo shot him a look. "Thanks for the heads up."

They jumped as an eerie yowl sounded through the open door, followed by pounding footsteps. Dorothy appeared in the threshold, out of breath, looking disheveled. Her eyes were alight with a manic gleam. She fixed her gaze on Heero and Duo, grinning like a mad woman.

"Did you hear that?!" She nearly shrieked as she stepped out to grab the suitcase handle from Heero. "This place is a gold mine," she continued, pulling the luggage into the house. Heero offered Duo his hand, pulling him out of the hole, and the two followed the excited woman inside.

There was a chair just inside the door and Heero gently dropped the backpack onto it as Dorothy rambled on about the "kick ass" house. "In all my months of ghost hunting, I've never experienced anything like this! This place is full of activity. I think -"

"Where's Relena?"

The blonde woman looked confused for a second, then she waved her hand at the stairs. "She's up there. On the second floor. I think she's checking the piping, or something. Something about making sure there's a rational explanation, or I don't know..." she turned away dismissively, not interested in such technicalities. "But, I think you'll find that there is definitely more going on here than old, rusty pipes. I was in the living room," she pointed down the hallway to the left of the foyer. "There's a huge mirror in there. Framed in gold. Incredible piece of craftsmanship, that is. Do you know, my dad used to deal -"

"Dorothy."

"Oh yeah, sorry. Anyway, I was checking the room out. It's dirty as all get-out in here, by the way. And I heard a weird sound, like a whisper, or something. I thought it was Relena, but when I turned, she wasn't in the room. Then I looked in the mirror and there was a figure standing behind me! When I turned around, no one was there, but when I looked back - well, here, I took a picture..."

She pulled her cell phone out of the back pocket of her jeans and turned on the screen. She scrolled through it for a moment, brows knitted together in concentration, then shouted an exuberant _"Aha!"_ She thrust the phone in Heero's face, bouncing on her heels as he examined the photo. 

In the foreground was the image of Dorothy reflected in the mirror, her phone held out in front of her, but what piqued Heero's interest was the vaguely misty form that stood just behind her left shoulder. It appeared to be that of an old woman. Her eyes, though difficult to see clearly, were sharp as they seemed to stare into the mirror, directly into the camera. A black gaping maw appeared to moan, or maybe even scream, silent, but for the visual, where her mouth should be. 

Heero suppressed a shiver as Duo came up behind him, resting a hand on his hip, chin dropped onto his shoulder. "Dayum," he drawled. "And here I thought Treize was full of shit. Good work, D." 

The blonde girl beamed with pride, taking back her phone when Heero handed it to her. "And there's more," she said, pocketing the phone into her jeans. "There was a massive bang, like a thud, like...like someone dropped something really heavy. It shook the whole house! Relena was coming out of one of the rooms down there," she pointed down a second hallway. "It happened right over her head. That's why she's up there checking it out. I went up with her, but I came back down when we heard what sounded like talking, or arguing. I thought it was you guys, or some of the other investigators, but there was no one here, and _then_ -"

"I'm going to see how Relena's doing. See if she found anything." Heero informed his lover as Dorothy continued with her excited babble, not missing a beat. Duo nodded though Heero couldn't be sure if it was in response to him, or to Dorothy. He swiped the backpack off the chair and headed up the stairs, testing the give of each step with his foot to be sure he wouldn't fall through. They creaked ominously, but appeared to be stable. 

At the top of the stairs, he looked down over the banister to see Duo and Dorothy disappear down one of the hallways, Dorothy yammering away about some sort of putrid smell she'd encountered in one of the rooms. Heero shook his head. He liked her well enough, but she was a handful at the best of times. More so than Duo even. He much preferred the calm, rational company of Relena. 

He started down the hallway that lead to the right, boots leaving imprints in the dirty wood floor. The doors were all closed which meant Relena wasn't likely to be in any of those. He turned back to head down the opposite hall when the temperature seemed to drop. Acting quickly, he set the pack down and unzipped it, digging through the various equipment until he located the thermal imaging camera. He tore away the bubble wrap that protected it from damage and flicked the switch on, holding it up to scan his surroundings. 

Outside, it was a good six degrees Celsius, or so. The thermal imaging device currently registered a temperature of minus five. A cloud of steam escaped Heero's mouth as he exhaled and his skin prickled, breaking out in goosebumps. His heart stopped in his chest for an instant as a breeze that should not have been there, brushed against his right ear, immediately followed by what felt like an icy cold finger trail down his cheek. He quickly swung the camera to his right and peered through the display. Mere inches away, the device showed what looked like a human head and a set of broad shoulders. He imagined if he could see it, whoever it was, would literally be right in his face. He swallowed around a suddenly dry throat and checked to make sure the camera was recording the phenomenon. He didn't dare move otherwise, lest this spirit, or whatever it was, decide to lunge at him. He was suddenly painfully aware of his full bladder and fought a valiant internal battle not to piss himself. 

After what felt like an eternity, but was likely only a few seconds, the image was gone, and the temperature gradually began to rise to a more normal level. He sagged slightly in relief and lowered the camera. He resumed his walk down the hallway, watching the floor closely for weak spots, opening each door in search of his friend. 

He found her in one of the bedrooms at the far end of the hall, back to the door, scanning the wall with a small, hand-held EMF detector. Heero watched her silently, unsure how to get her attention without giving her a heart attack. 

She must have sensed his presence, because her head turned, her peripheral vision catching sight of him in the doorway. She yelped, dropping the device in her hand. She cursed as it bounced on the floor, but thankfully, did not appear to break. She shot him an icy glare.

"Christ, Heero, is that really necessary?" She checked the EMF detector over to make sure it wasn't damaged.

"Sorry. I didn't know how to let you know I was here without scaring you."

"Try making some noise once in a while and quit skulking around like a silent panther. That would help," she muttered, holding the device back up against the wall and continuing her scan. 

"Find anything?"

She shook her head. "Nothing. No erratic fluctuations, or abnormal levels of electromagnetic fields. Nothing I can find that can pinpoint any natural reason for the occurrences." She seemed almost frustrated by that. While Duo and Dorothy, and hell, even Quatre took great pride in _not_ finding a rational explanation for the phenomenon they encountered, Heero and Relena were vindicated when they _did_ find one. Natural skeptics, they were. 

Speaking of which. "Yeah, about that..." Heero stepped forward, flicking on the display screen of the thermal imaging camera and showing Relena the image of the head he'd captured in the hallway. Her breath caught and she raised wide eyes to meet his. 

"Did that just happen?"

He nodded. "I'm afraid we might end up being the ones with egg on our face after this venture."

"Damn," Relena cursed. "I had a running bet with Dorothy that there wouldn't be anything here that couldn't be explained."

Heero smirked. "What were the stakes this time?"

She shook her head and sighed, stepping around Heero, and exiting the room. "You don't want to know. Come on. Let's go find out what kind of trouble our significant others have gotten themselves into."

 

 


	4. Chapter 4

Quatre kept his eyes closed as Trowa parked their van behind Relena and Dorothy's along the shoulder of the road. The back of their vehicle housed monitoring equipment and computers and served as a base of operations. It was important to keep the central observation area outside the investigation perimeters so as not to contaminate the footage, or worry about any interference, whether it be natural, or paranormal influence. The cameras and audio equipment that was set up in and around the house would be recorded on the computers inside the van via a secure, wireless feed. 

The blond medium didn't even need to see the house to know that this was going to be a doozy. He could feel the restless spirits of the estate from inside the van and he opened his eyes with a gasp as a particularly strong blast of emotion struck him like a solar flare. He stared through the window, probing with his mind to locate the source of the burst. After a moment, he recognized the signature energies of Duo and Dorothy and realized it was excitement. 

"You alright, love?" Trowa rested his hand on top of his lover's forearm. Quatre felt the waves of concern and smiled reassuringly. 

"Yes, I'm fine. I can already tell you, though, that this place is full of spirits. Very active ones. The energy is strong. I can feel it from here."

"Well, let's go see what we're dealing with then." 

They exited the vehicle just as a marked Preventer's car pulled up behind them. Every investigation required the presence of law enforcement not only for safety, but also for the record. Their go-to people were Agent Chang Wufei and Agent Zechs Merquise. Both men were extremely well-vetted agents of the organization and were also good friends of the investigation team. 

The only ones they were waiting on now were Treize and his wife. Trowa nodded a greeting at the agents as he grabbed the metal cases from the back of the van while Quatre made small talk. Flashlights, night vision cameras, microphones, and a first aid kit were essential ghost hunting tools. He chuckled to himself as he listened to Quatre give Wufei and Zechs his preliminary psychic evaluation and could easily picture the matching dubious expressions on both their faces. Neither of them were particularly receptive to paranormal activity, though they often humored the blond when he saw fit to share his readings.

Quatre was oblivious to the skepticism, or if he was aware of it, he never showed it. He reiterated that he believed some of Treize's ancestors were the ones occupying the house and terrorizing anyone who stepped foot inside. He surmised that they were likely trapped, either by choice, or through no fault of their own. He couldn't be sure, but he explained to an amused Wufei that they would probably need to cleanse/exorcise the house and convince the spirits to "go to the light".

Wufei, to his credit, just raised an eyebrow, not yet convinced, but not willing to crush the blond man by outright dismissing him. Zechs rounded the car to assist Trowa, lifting two of the cases. He turned to his black-haired lover, smiling at Wufei's slightly exasperated expression. Quatre was on a roll now, waving his arms to and fro, talking rapidly. Trowa came to the rescue, gently grasping Quatre's elbow and leading him away. "Let's hold off on the conclusion until we get a better look, okay, love?"

Quatre glanced at him as if he were a stranger. "Hm? Oh." He flushed deeply, looking back at Wufei. "Oh! God, I'm so sorry, Agent Chang! I'm just talking your ear off, aren't I? Sometimes, I don't know when to shut up..." He trailed off, looking utterly mortified.

Wufei placed a reassuring hand on the fretting man's shoulder. "It's okay, really. Don't worry about it. I'd imagine it can get pretty overwhelming for you." He glanced at Trowa who shot him a grateful look for his amicability. 

"It's still no excuse for me to go on and on like that. I'm sorry. You must think I'm crazy."

Well..."No, of course I don't. And no need to apologize. I understand. But, let's get this stuff inside and get set up. Sound good?"

Quatre nodded. "Of course, of course. Thank you, Agent Chang."

Wufei leveled a firm gaze on him. "And stop with the "Agent Chang", got it?"

Another blush. "Yes, of course. Thank you, Wufei." Trowa led him away, a warm smile aimed at the Preventer. Quatre picked up a case of microphones and the first aid kit and together, the couple stepped through the gate, Trowa warning Quatre to watch his step. 

Zechs handed Wufei a case and grinned wryly at Wufei's shaking head. His long, platinum blond hair was pulled back into a low ponytail, making his icy blue eyes seem all the more striking in the gray, bleak light of the morning. "I don't know how he hasn't driven Trowa crazy by now," he said, voice laced with amusement. 

Wufei snorted. "Trowa possesses the patience of a saint."

Zechs chuckled, "That he does."

Duo was in the foyer as the four men stepped inside the house, attaching a camcorder onto a tripod. Behind him, scattered along the dirty marble, was a pile of EMF detectors, EVP recorders, and spirit boxes that were yet to be distributed to the other rooms of the house. He shot them a wide grin and stood up, brushing dust from his black jeans. "Gentlemen!" He greeted cheerfully, a mischievous gleam in his eyes as his gaze settled on Wufei. "Chang."

"Maxwell," the Agent said, curtly. There was a long-standing rivalry between the two men. Rivalry in the sense that Duo never failed to close an investigation without an elaborate prank targeted towards the Preventer. Their last case ended with Wufei nearly murdering the braided investigator after Duo had hung an effigy from the rafters of the cellar Wufei had been sent to explore. The hanging "body" had nearly given him a stroke. He sniffed, "I trust that you will no doubt display your childishness and unprofessionalism again during this investigation?"

Duo winked one jovial, blue eye. "You know it."

The Agent turned his nose up and stalked out of the foyer. "Very well. Just know that it says much more about you than it does about me." His voice faded as he walked further into the house, but increased a few decibels a moment later. "For Christ's sake, why is this God-forsaken place so _filthy?_ " Zechs followed him after shooting Duo a mild glare.

Duo turned his thousand-watt grin back on the other two. He extended his arm to shake Trowa's hand and wrapped Quatre in a warm embrace. "How you guys doin'? Good trip?" He took the cases out of Quatre's hands and set them by the door. 

"It was alright. Quatre slept through most of the drive." Trowa grinned warmly at his lover as Quatre closed his eyes and turned in a slow circle, deep in concentration.

"Lucky you. Yeah, me and Hee-chan took the bike."

"I noticed."

A carefree shrug. "Eh, it was a little chilly, but invigorating. Even though I had to listen to Heero bitch about the cold all the way here..." Duo trailed off as he watched Quatre sidle along the length of the wall, eyes still closed, his pale hand dragging across the crumbling plaster in his wake. His other hand rested against his chest, over his heart. 

Duo's gaze flickered to Trowa who was staring at his lover as if he were an angel descended from Heaven to save them all from eternal damnation. He suppressed his gag reflex and cleared his throat instead. It had the desired effect as the spell broke and Trowa focused his attention on Duo. The braided man rolled his eyes. "You two are hopeless."

Trowa's lip curled, ever so slightly. "Speak for yourself."

Duo nudged his chin in the direction of the still-entranced blond who was slowly making his way deeper into the house. "He doing his..." He made a swirling gesture next his head with one finger. "Thing?"

Trowa huffed and deposited the case of night vision cameras onto its side. "Do you have to make the "crazy" gesture with your hand every time you ask me that?" 

"I mean no offense. I love Quat like a little bro, but you gotta admit, he's got a few screws loose -"

"I'd advise you not to finish that thought if you value your life."

Duo held his hands up, palms outward. "Okay, okay. Sorry." He tightened the bolts of the tripod to secure the camera. "Just sayin', your boy's a little flaky."

"Look who's talking."

"That wounds me, Barton." Duo turned the tripod and pushed it into the corner to aim the camera where it would cover most of the foyer and reached for a spirit box. He placed the small device at the bottom of the stairs, just beneath the overhanging lip of the step where it wouldn't be tripped over, or stepped on in the dark. "I think that covers this room. You can take those cameras upstairs and start setting them up in the bedrooms. Heero's up there with Relena doing some EMF readings. Are those the DATS?" He pointed to a long rectangular case that held three long microphones. Next to it was a smaller box containing headsets.

"Yeah."

"Sweet. I'll get Dorothy to come grab these and get them ready."

Trowa nodded and headed up the stairs, night vision cameras in hand. Halfway up, there was an odd vibration that began in the floor and spread up through the walls. Trowa paused and placed his hand on the railing, feeling the hum reverberate through his skin, leaving a slight tickling sensation in the bones of his fingers. Duo stood frozen on the ground floor and the two shared a look, silently communicating that they'd both felt it. 

There was a flash of white as Duo's lips curled back in a grin and he clapped his hands together. "I think we've hit the mother load." 


	5. Chapter 5

Heero was helping Trowa get the connection going in the van when a flashy Rolls Royce pulled into the driveway. They looked at each other, then at the car as it pulled to a stop in front of the house. The sides of vehicle were caked in mud from the drive down the dirt roads and for some odd reason, that made Heero smile. Duo must have been rubbing off on him.

"Must be Treize," he said.

Trowa was squatting just inside the van with a metal case dangling from his fingers when he realized his mouth was hanging open. "That's...quite a car."

Heero snorted. "As if he'd be caught dead in anything less." He brushed his hands off and walked over to the car to greet them.

The driver's side door opened and a brown haired woman stepped out looking undeniably pissed. She stormed around to the other side where the passenger door had yet to be opened. She yanked on the handle and cursed when it wouldn't open.

"Oh, you lock the door on me? That's real mature, _Dear._ You know if I didn't know any better, I would say I'd married a freaking five year old!" She pulled on the handle again. It still wouldn't open. "Treize! Open the fucking door!"

"Need some help?" Heero offered, trying his damnedest not to laugh. Lady Une glared at him, then pointed into the car. 

"My toddler of a husband is too chicken shit to come out." She leaned down so her face was level with the window. "You hear that?" Now, Heero could see Treize's profile through the car and noticed his lips were moving.  Une shouted. "You are a grown ass man. This is your house and your case and you're too scared to come face the music." She straightened up, her expression was that of a woman at the end of her rope. "I don't believe him."

Heero smirked. He'd read Treize's experience in the case file. He hadn't taken the alleged haunting of his house very well to say the least. "Don't worry about it. He can stay in the car. We don't need him to do this."

"You hear that, you wuss? They don't need your worthless ass - oh, you're going to flip me off now, are you? Well, we'll just see about that. How about I put a nice foot-sized dent in the side of your precious Rolls? Would you like that?" Une was now standing on one foot, the other held up in front of her as she threatened to kick the car.

Trowa came over to stand beside Heero. "I really hope she doesn't do that. That is one sweet ride."

Heero glanced at him sideways. "Since when are you a car connoisseur?"

He shrugged. "It's a Royce. Best car ever made -" he glanced at Heero. "What?"

Heero laughed. "Nothing." 

They watched as the passenger door finally popped open and out came an irate Treize Khushrenada. "You kick my car, woman, I'll -"

"You'll what? Hit me? I'd like to see you try. I'll pound your ass into the ground!"

"Alright, guys. Let's refrain from any bloodshed, okay?"

Une turned towards them, her dukes still raised, looking hilariously disappointed. Treize turned his nose up and sniffed. "As if she would."

"Don't tempt me, asshole."

"Okay, come on. Let's go inside and say hello to the others okay?" Heero ushered Une towards the house, feeling like he was talking to kindergartners, gesturing for Treize to follow. He did so, reluctantly, hands in his pockets, dragging his expensive shoes through the gravel, and pretending to be interested in nature. Once at the door, he stopped and shuffled on his feet, biting his lip. He looked back at Trowa, still working at the van. _Hmmm...maybe he needs some help..._

Trowa heard the crunch of footsteps, looked up, and groaned. Oh, God. He did not need this. 

Trying, and failing terribly, Treize attempted the casual approach. He pursed his lips and blew through them, only succeeding in making spittle fly out of his mouth. Trowa looked at him like he'd just taken a dump on the driveway. "Are you trying to whistle?"

"No," Treize sounded offended. Damn, but Une made it look easy. "Sooo...how's it going?"

Trowa glanced up and then back down as he twisted a few wires together. _Oh, Christ. Not the small talk._ "Fine."

"Catch any good ghosts lately?" Treize suddenly doubled over, laughing loud enough to scare off a few nearby birds. He leaned back up, bouncing on the balls of his feet, grinning proudly like he'd just won the prize for Most Hilarious Quip.

"Uhhh...yeah..." Trowa tested the connection. It looked to be a go. The monitors flickered to life and he could now see into the rooms where the cameras had already been set up. The rest remained dark as they were still being linked up. 

Treize peeked inside the van. "Oh, neat! You can see the inside of the house from here?" He pushed past Trowa, nearly knocking him on his ass as he climbed into the van.

"Don't touch anything."

Treize picked something up and turned around. "What's this do?"

"I told you not to touch anything," Trowa grumbled. "It's an EMF meter."

"What's that do - oh! What's this?" Treize dropped the meter and picked up something else.

"Hey! Put that d - Goddamnit..."

 

* * *

 

"Miss Une!" Quatre came flying through the foyer and into the woman's arms. "It's so good to see you! How are you?"

"I've been better, Quatre," she said, patting the blond on the back. She glanced behind her when she realized her husband wasn't there. "Where's - _Treize!_ Stop bothering the nice man and get your ass over here," she shrieked right into Heero's ear. He reached up to rub it, making a mental note to schedule a hearing exam first thing Monday morning. 

Duo appeared in the doorway, grinning. "Won't come in, huh?"

"No. If I had a dollar for every time -" She paused, the fine hair on the back of her neck standing on end. Her entire right side seemed encased in ice. Her skin prickled a moment later when there was an unearthly moan right next to her ear. She glanced at Quatre who stood bug-eyed in surprise. He was staring into the empty space next to her head.

"Don't move, Miss Une. He's standing right next to you. He's looking at you."

"Okaaay..." She stood frozen, breath stuck in her throat. "What's he doing now?" She asked, glancing at the blond.

Quatre blushed to the tips of his ears. "Uhhh...you probably don't want to know that."

"Oh, for fuck's sake," Une groaned. She turned her head to the right and glared. "What's the matter, Mr. Ghost? Is the afterlife so boring? Are you really that hard up?" The cold feeling immediately evaporated. 

"Miss Une, I think you hurt his feelings."

"Oh, Christ."

"That's our Quat," said Duo. "Always worried about everyone. Even perverted old ghosts with ectoplasmic stiffies." 

Quatre rolled his eyes. "Come on, let's go to the kitchen. Relena's making coffee and tea." Une's bad mood dissipated at the mention of coffee. "You just said the magic words."

Duo stood to the side and gestured down the hallway. "Lead the way, Oracle."

Quatre glared at the nickname as he helped Une out of her coat. "Oh, but...what about Treize?"

Une snorted. "Treize who?" They disappeared down the hall leaving Heero and Duo in the foyer. 

Heero had snapped a photo with his phone during the moaning incident and was now staring at it with his mouth hanging open. Duo quirked an eyebrow. "What is it, babe?" He came around, peering over his lover's shoulder and gaped at the picture. "Holy _shit_. Quat wasn't kidding."

Heero's mouth clicked shut, then opened again. "Is he -"

Duo snickered. "Yes, he is."

"You think Une will want to see this?"

Duo's chest was shaking with laughter. "Une, hell. I'm getting that shit framed." 

 

* * *

 

Heero stepped back outside to check on Trowa and noticed his friend standing by the back of the van, pinching the bridge of his nose. Treize stood next to him gesturing wildly. He jogged across the yard and Trowa glanced up, looking at him with such relief, Heero felt like a shit friend for leaving him alone with Treize for so long. Which was only about fifteen minutes. Then again, if you knew Treize, you knew that was an eternity.

"- And then, she's bitching at me the whole way here and I'm like, "I just want to listen to my music and eat my McDonald's without being nagged." I don't want to go into that house. I never want to go into that house. Ever again! But she's like, "Wah Treize, you have to. It's your house and your case and why are you being such a baby blah blah blah, nag nag nag,"" he'd adopted a high falsetto while saying this, "And I'm like, "Why can't I just stay at home and cover the case over the phone? Like, don't we have internet and technology and stuff? Why do I have to -" 

Treize suddenly spun in place, his eyes rolling back in his head. Then he dropped to the ground like a sack of potatoes.

Heero caught up to Trowa and glanced at his friend. "You sucker punched him."

Trowa was shaking the sting out of his hand as he eyed Heero in challenge. "You would too if you had to listen to that for as long as I just did."

Heero snorted. "Well, now we have to carry him into the house." It was probably the only way to get him in there anyway. Heero didn't think he'd ever go in voluntarily.

"Or, we can just leave him here," Trowa smirked.

"Cruel. As tempting as that is, we have two Preventers in the house and I don't think they'd take kindly to negligent homicide, or depraved indifference, or whatever," Heero said, laughing. 

"Do you know Zechs? He'd help us hide the body."

Heero lost it, doubling over and slapping Trowa on the back. "That's right. I forgot about their...history."

"That's probably half the reason he doesn't want to go in there," Trowa guessed. 

"It should be an interesting night having the two of them together in one house. They might have to see and speak to each other." Heero pretended to be appalled. 

Trowa mirrored him. "What is the world coming to?"

Treize groaned and rolled onto his back, but didn't wake. Trowa nudged him with his foot before Heero hissed, "Don't wake him up. The longer he's out, the better off we'll all be."

"Good point," Trowa nodded. "I'll go get Wufei. He can help us bring him in."

"He's not going to be happy about this."

Trowa glanced at him over his shoulder. "Do you know Wufei? He'll probably throw me a party."

"Yeah and so will Une."

"No, Une will be pissed that it wasn't her who knocked him out."

"I don't envy you, buddy. The wrath of Une is something to behold."

Trowa returned a few minutes later with Wufei and Zechs. They stood looking down at the unconscious man before Wufei glanced up at Trowa. "This your handiwork?"

"Yeah."

"You know, I'm not supposed to condone this, but -" he glanced up when he noticed Zechs leaning against the van, laughing his ass off. He continued, "Yeah...off the record. Well done. I wished I could have done that."

"Pretty sure that would have gotten you in serious trouble," Heero said.

"Hey, you know he called Zechs last month? Tried to tell him he'd get us fired if he didn't go back with him."

Heero's eyebrows disappeared beneath his bangs. "You serious?"

Wufei nodded. "Yeah. How's that for some shit. Sexual harassment and blackmail. I wanted to press charges, but -"

Zechs placed a hand on his lover's shoulder. "But it was our word over his and considering his high position in government -"

"That probably wouldn't have ended well for you guys," Trowa guessed.

Heero was morbidly curious. "So, what happened?"

"Zechs told Une about it."

"Ouch."

 

* * *

 

Treize came to when something heavy and cold dropped onto his nuts. He sat up with a gasp, instantly regretting it when his face throbbed with pain. _The hell - did I get hit by a locomotive?_

"Close," said a soft voice. He cracked open his sore, and likely bruised eyes. A blurry figure stood over him and Treize squinted around the pain to see who it was. Blond hair came into focus and below that, sparkling blue eyes. The man smiled at him. "Not a locomotive. Just my boyfriend."

"Ugh," Treize carefully touched his nose to make sure it wasn't some unsightly puffed up mass of shit on his face. "Your boyf -" his eyes widened as he suddenly remembered what happened. He'd been telling that Barton guy about his harrowing trip to the house with his wife when he'd been socked in the nose. "That - that bastard! How dare he?" The _indignity!_ Who did that blue-collar ape think he was? Treize was of a mind to give him an earful and then press charges. 

"And he'd likely punch you again, just for that," said the blond man. The name was coming to Treize now. Winner, was it? 

Treize glared at him. "What are you, a mind reader?"

The blond raised a brow. "Something like that."

He groaned, picking the ice up from his now frozen balls and gingerly pressed the pack against his aching nose. Goddamn, but that hurt like a bitch. "Where is he?"

Winner leaned back in his chair, crossing his legs. "Oh...he's around here somewhere."

"Around..." Treize gave a start when he suddenly realized he wasn't outside anymore. "What - where am - oh _shit!_ "

Winner grinned at him. "Welcome home, Mr. Khushrenada. Your family is happy to see you again."

There was another earth-shattering scream that echoed throughout the house, but this time, it came from the living. On the other side, the ghost of Auntie Mildred smiled and rubbed her hands together.

_So nice of you to come see your Auntie, dear nephew. I do hope you enjoy your visit..._


	6. Chapter 6

Treize spent the next few hours lounging on the couch of the living room, lamenting the fact that he was stuck inside the house with his wife, his ex, and a whole team of ghost hunting grunts. He nursed his nose which had turned a nauseating shade of purple that spread up around his eyes and he cursed Trowa to kingdom come.

"Serves you right," Une snapped as she sat nearby in a rocking chair. The creak of the joists making his head feel like a concrete slab that had seen too much foot traffic. Ugh. This was torture. He placed a cool wet cloth across his eyes and tried to ignore his wife who seemed hell-bent on annoying him to death. Still, it was better than that Winner kid. That boy was several cards shy of a full deck. His freaky ability to know what Treize was thinking gave him a serious case of the willies.

And what had he said? His family was happy to see him again? Treize had been a little distracted by the pesky fact of finding out he was inside the House of Horrors to pay much attention to the little blond flake who grinned at him like he was a free pancake breakfast at the local church. But...is that who was haunting this place? It made sense considering it had been in the family for centuries. His great, great grandfather Treize the First had built it and there were many generations who'd occupied the house over the years. 

"Quatre says it's your family whose haunting this place," said Une. Treize lifted his head up, the cloth slipping down his face as he glared at his wife with one bruised eye. 

"Who's Quatre?"

Une dipped her chin, looking at him like he was slower than molasses. "Winner, dear. The little blond kid that brought you the ice."

"Ah." He dropped his head back down on the arm of the couch and pulled the cloth back up over his eyes. "The weirdo."

"Don't talk about him like that. He's a sweet kid."

"He's also weird."

"Speak for yourself," Une muttered. 

"What was that?"

"Nothing."

As if it was bad enough that he was now stuck here with a bruised and painful face, Zechs and that Maxwell kid had to start laughing every time they looked at him. Not to mention being on the receiving end of Chang's resentful glares. It wasn't his fault. He'd simply asked Zechs to come back to him. Okay, _maybe_ he crossed the line when he said he'd have the two of them fired if he didn't. Treize wasn't exactly accustomed to being told "no". As someone whom people often bent over backwards for, he'd been appalled with Zechs had told him to go fuck himself.

But, did he _really_ have to tell Une? To say she was pissed was the understatement of the year. She'd literally ripped him a new asshole, then shoved him out into the cold, snowy night with a pillow and blanket, and locked the door behind her. Furious, he went around to the back and kicked the door in. Unfortunately, he'd been met with the muzzle of a shotgun pressing against his nose the moment he stepped inside. Treize had sneered at her.

"You don't have the guts."

Une's lip curled and the ominous sound of the safety being clicked off echoed throughout the kitchen like a death knell. "Try me."

Treize slunk back outside with his tail between his legs and spent the next few nights in the car. Even after that, he was still in the doghouse, but he'd at least been allowed to go inside and feed himself. 

The living room silent for a while. Only the creak of the rocking chair breaking through the thick blanket of quiet and the peace of Treize's fantasies about murdering the whole group and leaving their souls trapped to haunt the same house along with his family. 

_Creak...creak...creak..._

Treize clenched his teeth in aggravation, his blood pressure reaching boiled lobster levels.

_Creak...creak...*moan*..._

Treize raised an eyebrow under his cloth. "The hell are you doing over there?"

"It wasn't me, you dumb shit."

Treize's veins turned to ice and he sat up quickly which was a ludicrous idea. " _Ow_..."

"Quiet," Une hissed. They listened to the silence when another moan traveled through the air, seeming to pass right over Treize's head. He swore he could feel his luxurious locks of hair turn stark white. He barked at Une.

"What are you waiting for? Go get the experts."

Une shot up out the chair, swung the door open and ran down the hall. Treize suddenly realized he was now left alone in the room with a ghost. Too terrified to move, he sat, frozen, clutching the cloth in his hand, knuckles turning white. 

* _Ooooooooh._..*

"Who's there?"

* _Treeeeiiiiizzzzeeee._..*

It was a distinctly female voice and it rang familiar in his mind. He quirked an eyebrow. "...Auntie Millie?"

 

* * *

 

The group had gathered around the doorway like a pile of lookie-lou's to catch a glimpse of Treize shitting his designer slacks and he all but threatened to fire them. He allowed Dorothy inside, only because she had kick ass eyebrows like he did. She entered the room with a box-like device slung over her shoulder with a long strap, a long microphone in her hands, and headphones on her ears. 

He watched her slowly walk around the room with the microphone, stopping every so often, looking deep in concentration. Of course, these things take time, but then Treize wasn't exactly patient.

"Well?"

She held up her hand to quiet him.

"Don't shoosh me, young lady."

Dorothy shot him a look that made him blush like an adolescent school girl. _Okay, I probably shouldn't piss this one off._

He asked again, nicer this time. "You got anything?"

"They're arguing."

"Who is?"

"Is the name Mildred familiar to you?"

Treize slapped his hand down on his thigh. "I knew it! I thought that was her voice. What's she saying? Who else is here?"

"...Someone named Cyrus?"

"Great pappy, Cryus? Huh. How 'bout that. Who else?"

She pulled the headphones off. "I don't know. They shut up."

"Why?"

"Probably because they figured out I can hear them. I got it recorded, though."

Duo stuck his head through the doorway, glancing at Treize and snickering. "We should do an EVP session. Quat? Relena? You do the honors? I'm going to go to the van and check with Heero and Tro to see if the cameras picked up anything."

Winner and Peacecraft came in then, the girl carried a small audio recorder in her hand, and the two sat down on the opposite couch and began to ask questions.

"Who are you?"

"Why are you here?"

"Can you give us a sign?"

Treize snorted. "I think we're well past that."

"Ssh."

He huffed watching as Peacecraft asked the questions while Winner sat silent, eyes closed. The backs of his hands rested lightly on his knees, the fingers turned up and thumb and forefinger touching to form a "O". His lips moved rapidly, whispering something Treize couldn't hear.

"Why haven't you left?"

"Why are you bothering the people who come here?"

"Do you know you scare them?"

Treize threw up his hands. "For Christ's sake, they're not five years old!"

Peacecraft leveled him with a glare. "Well, do you have anything you'd like to ask? They're your family."

He thought about it, drumming his fingers on his thigh, smirk curling one side up his mouth up. "Yeah. When is the Mothership coming back for Winner?"

 

* * *

 

 

" _Owww._..." Treize groaned as Peacecraft pressed an ice pack on his black eye. That son of a bitch, Barton, had hit him again. Une sat nearby in her rocker looking at him like he was the biggest fucking idiot she'd ever known. Considering he felt like the biggest fucking idiot _he'd_ ever known, he didn't blame her. She shook her head at him.

"When are you going to learn?"

He shot her a glare from his one good eye and refused to answer. She got up and walked towards the door, glancing at him over her shoulder. "You might want to keep your mouth shut from now on if you don't want your face to resemble ground beef."

He grumbled under his breath about hot-headed peons and frigid bitches.

"What was that?"

He almost repeated it, but thought better of it. He still had all his teeth. He wanted to keep it that way. "Nothing."

"That's what I thought."

He gazed up at Peacecraft as she let go of the ice pack and stepped away. "Do you approve of this?"

Peacecraft's lips curled up. "Absolutely."

He sulked. "I'll bet your brother is enjoying this."

"Considering what you did to him, are you surprised?"

"I just missed him. I wanted him to come back to me. Oh, why am I telling you this?"

"Maybe because I'm the only one dumb enough to listen to you." He glared at her back as she turned to leave the room. 

He dropped his head on the arm of the sofa with a thump that made his face hurt. He rested one ice pack against his nose, another one over his eye. "This sucks."

 


End file.
